Two unrelated public conversations, the “Olodo Uprising” and the debate surrounding recent remarks by Nigeria’s First Lady, have exposed a deeper issue. Beyond the headlines lies a question of leadership, aspiration and the narratives that shape what citizens believe is possible.
Extract
By every indication, Nigeria’s youth are no longer simply asking to be heard; they are asking to be taken seriously.
Over the past week, what began as a social media trend under the banner of the “Olodo Uprising” quickly evolved into a national conversation. Beyond the memes, debates and outrage lies a deeper question about the kind of society Nigeria is becoming: one where many young people increasingly believe that hard work, education and talent no longer guarantee opportunity.
Whether that perception is entirely accurate is almost beside the point. Perception drives confidence, confidence shapes behaviour, and behaviour ultimately influences national development.
Dr. Omolaraeni Olaosebikan
That is why leadership communication matters.
The recent suggestion by the First Lady that young Nigerians could consider selling kulikuli and akara as a means of livelihood generated strong reactions across the country. There is little reason to doubt that the advice was offered in good faith. Yet communication is judged not only by the intentions behind it but also by the context in which it is delivered.
At a time when millions of young Nigerians are navigating a difficult economy, rising living costs and uncertain career prospects, many interpreted the message as disconnected from the scale of the challenge before them.
This should not be mistaken for disrespect towards small businesses. Across Nigeria, countless families have built honest and dignified livelihoods selling food, running market stalls, and operating small enterprises. These businesses are the backbone of our informal economy and deserve recognition, not condescension. But there is an important distinction between respecting entrepreneurship and reducing national economic ambition to subsistence.
Selling akara can sustain a household. It cannot, on its own, address a youth employment challenge in a nation of more than 230 million people. It cannot replace industrial policy, strengthen education, expand access to finance, or create the scale of opportunity that Nigeria’s growing youth population requires. That is where the conversation should begin.
As someone who works in strategic communications and reputation management, I have learned that narratives are never neutral. Every message leaders communicate sends a signal about priorities, values, and expectations. In moments of economic uncertainty, public communication does more than explain policy; it shapes hope, confidence and belief in the future.
Words matter because they influence what people believe is possible. When leadership narratives appear to redefine survival as empowerment, they unintentionally lower expectations. They shift the conversation from building prosperity to managing hardship.
Nigeria’s young people are asking for something fundamentally different. They are not demanding guarantees of success. They are asking for a fair chance to succeed.
Nigeria’s young people are asking for something fundamentally different. They are not demanding guarantees of success; they are asking for a fair chance. A fair chance to receive an education that prepares them for today’s economy, to access finance that turns promising ideas into viable businesses, and to compete in an economy where competence, innovation and enterprise are rewarded. Above all, they want leadership that matches the scale of their aspirations.
Too often, our national conversation celebrates resilience while overlooking the conditions that make resilience necessary in the first place. Nigerians are undoubtedly resilient. We have demonstrated extraordinary ingenuity in difficult circumstances. But resilience should never become a substitute for sound economic policy, nor should survival become the benchmark for successful youth empowerment.
Nigeria’s youthful population remains one of its greatest competitive advantages, but only if we choose to invest in it. That investment begins with an education system aligned to the demands of a changing economy. It requires stronger collaboration between government, industry, and academia, while expanding access to affordable finance for young entrepreneurs whose ideas often fail, not because they lack promise, but because they lack capital.
It also demands an economy that creates jobs at scale. Manufacturing contributes less than one-tenth of Nigeria’s GDP, while sectors such as technology, agribusiness, renewable energy, and the creative economy remain capable of absorbing far more young talent than they currently do. Unlocking that potential requires deliberate policy, long-term thinking and consistent execution.
The private sector has responsibilities too. Businesses cannot continue lamenting the shortage of skilled talent while investing too little in internships, apprenticeships, mentorship and workforce development. Building Nigeria’s future workforce is a shared responsibility.
The media also has a role to play.
We cannot continue rewarding outrage while neglecting ideas. Every viral controversy should become an opportunity for deeper conversations about productivity, competitiveness, innovation, and inclusive economic growth. The stories we amplify shape the society we eventually become. Perhaps that is the greatest lesson from the so-called “Olodo Uprising.”
It is not merely about one comment, one public figure, or one week of social media debates. It is about a generation searching for evidence that its country believes in its potential.
History shows that nations rise or fall on how they treat their young people. Countries that invest in youth create innovation, prosperity, and social stability. Those that fail to do so eventually pay the price through declining productivity, talent migration, widening inequality, and growing public frustration.
Nigeria now stands at one of those defining moments. Leadership is not only about making policy. It is about communicating possibility, inspiring confidence, and creating the conditions for people to believe that their future is worth building at home.
Our national conversation should therefore move beyond whether young people can sell kulikuli or akara. The more important question is whether Nigeria is creating an environment where a young person can build a technology company, establish a manufacturing business, commercialise an agricultural innovation, produce globally competitive creative content or transform a small enterprise into a multinational brand. That is the standard by which genuine youth empowerment should be measured.
Nigeria’s young people have spoken with remarkable clarity. The challenge before our leaders is not simply to respond with comforting words, but to match those words with a vision worthy of the generation that will inherit this nation.
Final Thought
The debate was never really about kulikuli or akara. Nor was it simply about another week of social media controversy. It was about the stories a nation tells its young people, and the futures those stories make possible. Leadership begins with policy, but it is sustained by narrative.
Because in the end, the narratives we choose today shape the realities we will live tomorrow.
The Narrative Matters
The Narrative Matters is a thought leadership series exploring how strategic communication influences leadership, governance, corporate reputation, public trust, and national development. Through timely commentary and practical insights, the series examines the ideas, narratives and decisions that shape institutions, businesses and society.
By Dr. Omolaraeni Olaosebikan
Strategic Communications & Reputation Management Expert | Marketing Communications Leader | Public Affairs Commentator
